


Indigo

by ILoveDragonsALot



Series: Imperial Academy [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Chiss dancing, F/M, Fluff, Imperial Dancing, Reader hates Dancing, Thrawn is still a blueberry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveDragonsALot/pseuds/ILoveDragonsALot
Summary: You hate Imperial dancing, but agree to help Thrawn learn anyway. He teaches you some things too...Continues on from Caeruleum. Thank you so much for the support on my last one-shot!
Relationships: Thrawn X Reader, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo & Eli Vanto, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Original Female Character(s), Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Reader
Series: Imperial Academy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545292
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	Indigo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SelnyCelery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelnyCelery/gifts), [Kartyana Nisya](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Kartyana+Nisya).



Delia. Such a starry-eyed idiot. What was the last thing she had asked you? 'Oh, you seem to be hanging out with that alien an awful lot lately. Are you alright?'

Who _said_ that? By the Maker, you swore she was on Spice. Any other explanation just wouldn't make sense. She was stupid, horribly optimistic, acted like a brainless worm, went after just about any single boy that looked even close to handsome, and she wouldn't shut up. Didn't this soulless snail _sleep_?

Ah, here she goes again.

"So, (Y/N), I've been thinking..." Delia drawled in that painful Core accent as she shifted around on her bunk.

 _Oh no, you can think?_ you thought.

"The Acadamy ball is coming up, and I'm not sure whether I should wear blue or green. And should it be backless? It's such a hard decision!" she exclaimed.

"Son of a nexu..." you muttered. Not the ball. Putting on your sweet, completely fake voice, you said: "Maybe go for emerald green? And probably choose something loose and drapey, so it's easy to dance in?"

"I dunno," Delia sighed. "Would Arben like it?"

Cadet Arben Terrace? This was just getting better and better.

"You could ask him."

You heard her sit up quickly, the bed jerking underneath you. Curse being on the bottom bunk.

"That's such a great idea! I can't believe I didn't think of that! Oh, thank you!"

You groaned inside, pulling the pillow over your head. What would happen if you told her to shut it and go to sleep? Probably nothing bad, none of her friends struck you as particularly violent. Even if they were, they wouldn't do much. Most of your time was spent in the combat dojo. There were even the very rare moments where you were able to spar with Cadet Thrawn.

Thrawn!

He wouldn't be up at this time of night, and you weren't about to call him over the comms with Delia in the dorm, but tomorrow your breaks lined up! Heck yeah, things were looking up. Ever since you had kissed him in the refresher, it was hard to forget about him for more than a moment. His dorm was cold, though. Eli Vanto had expressed his annoyance at Thrawn's insistence on turning down the temperature. You could always just hug Thrawn with his ridiculously warm blue body, you supposed, but Eli could get a little awkward around you two. It wasn't like you were doing anything serious, but you sympathized somewhat. It would be gross to see two people smooching all the time.

Not that Thrawn was particularly cuddly, but you would dare say it... he was cute. A little (tall, actually. Very tall) blueberry with the rare combination of muscle and brains.

You let your thoughts of Thrawn flood your mind, pushing out Delia's overenthusiastic yabbering. At last, you fell into darkness.

* * *

Combat class. The best class. The boldest class. Yes, ladies, gentlemen, and the bacteria in between, the classy class.

And the Instructor had just ruined it.

Dance fighting, heck yes. Imperial dancing, **no**.

"You are all expected to be at dance practise at oh-seven-hundred tomorrow morning. Don't show up late, or you'll be waltzing up to the Commandant's door. Clear, cadets?"

"Clear, sir," the cadets echoed.

"Good. Now, Cadet (Y/L/N) was about to demonstrate the Pirate's Sling. Continue."

You uttered a quick "Yessir!" and turned your burning (E/C) eyes back to your opponent, now feeling rather annoyed. You always hit better when you were annoyed.

Smiling devilishly, you advanced on your now-hesitant cadet opponent. He really wasn't feeling the fresh enthusiasm that had made its way to your limbs. _Just wait, and you'll be feeling it._

You darted to his left side, knowing he was left-handed, avoiding a lighter swing from his right fist. This idiot hadn't yet learned that in Combat class, you hit everyone. Even the girls. Usually the girls. They tended to be more savage.

You swiftly twisted on your ankles, balancing your weight, and slammed your right forearm down hard on his left arm, while at the same time kicking in his left knee. He tumbled to the ground in an inelegant heap, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Very good," the Instructor commented. "As you can see, if your opponent favours one side, the Pirate's Sling is a useful tactic to get them on the ground where they can be easily neutralized. Well done, cadets."

You murmured a "Thank you, sir" and offered the other cadet your hand. He took it, and you hefted him up effortlessly. "Hit harder next time," you said with an encouraging smile.

"I don't think that could have stopped you," he said mildly with a shy smile.

"Mmm, that depends how good you are," you remarked.

You joined the other cadets as the Instructor took the spotlight again, continuing with the program. "Now, as you can see..."

You found yourself drifting off, despite your usual thorough listening skills. The fight seemed to have left you as your mind wandered to the imminent fate awaiting you tomorrow.

Imperial dancing practise. It sucked.

* * *

You ate in relative silence, unconsciously watching the other cadets carefully. You had your own table, of course. Who would want to eat with an unknown regions alien and a backwater yokel? Not to mention you, having made a mess of your fragile peace with Cadets Terrace and Korah and their stupid band of friends. Ah, humans were so petty. And pathetic.

Cadet Vanto sat opposite you, and Thrawn was next to you, his body heat radiating in waves onto you. He wasn't even that close. Whatever planet he lived on must be seriously cold. Living on the planet of the Chiss would be... interesting. Cold, likely. Blue, maybe.

"I must ask," Thrawn said, breaking through your musings. "What is the Imperial dance?"

You stilled beside him, your chewing stopping abruptly. The food on your tray became suddenly grey.

Noticing your reaction, Thrawn asked: "It is something undesirable?"

You snorted. "Undesirable only for some people. It's not bad in itself."

"It is undesirable for you?"

"I hate dancing," you growled. "Especially the Imperial waltz."

Eli looked up from his tray, face of tanned skin and sunny days. "Aren't you good at dancing?"

"Dance fighting," you corrected icily. "Don't mix the two up."

Thrawn frowned at that, and Eli began staring blankly at his tray again. You rubbed your face with rough hands, resuming your absent chewing.

"You can dance, correct?" Thrawn's voice sounded next to you. You sighed inwardly.

_Ugh, I really don't like where this is going._

"Yeah, I can dance."

Thrawn calmly assessed you with eyes of incarnadine. "And you could teach those skills to another?"

You swallowed, your tongue playing with a loose strand of something stuck in your teeth. If you sighed once more, your lungs might stop working. "You know, you could just ask, Thrawn. I'm not that sensitive."

"Very well," he replied, bowing his blue head slightly. The harsh lights glinted on his blue-black hair slicked back perfectly. "Would you teach me to dance?"

"Yeah," you said blandly. "Delia won't be in my dorm tonight for obscure reasons, so we could do it there. Give Eli some quiet time back at your dorm."

Eli looked up, mildly surprised to hear his name. "Huh?"

Your sharp (E/C) gaze snapped to Eli. "Are you alright? You seem awfully distracted today."

"He is concerned with the upcoming examinations," Thrawn filled in.

"You kidding?" you remarked. "You'll be fine."

Eli grunted. "Maybe."

You finished your last mouthful of lunch and swallowed uncomfortably. "Well, I've gotta go in a few minutes, so if you want to add anything else, do it now. I get off at oh-five-hundred, so we can practise after that."

Placing your hands on the table ready to get up, Thrawn stopped you by gently laying a large blue hand over yours. You looked at him questioningly. "Do not let Cadet Terrace trouble you. The patient hunter is rewarded with the prey, but the brash one goes hungry."

You smiled lightly, your eyes shining briefly with gratitude, and you nodded. He lifted his hand and you brushed it with your fingers, careful to make sure no one was watching.

* * *

The lecture on how life support systems worked was a drag. It was a relief to finally walk out and avoid Cadet Terrace's burning glares of hatred.

Back at your dorm, you didn't have to wait long for Thrawn to arrive. He was alone, as you'd assumed he would be. Vanto would be enjoying his peace, likely to study.

Thrawn's gaze was searching, as usual. The first time you met him, it was unnerving how he seemed to see all your secrets just by looking at you, but now it was a comfort to know he could easily hurt you, yet would never because he cared about you.

The talking was brief and sparsely attempted, and you weren't in the most talkative mood anyway. Thrawn was a little awkward at first, unsure in his movements, but he quickly learnt the moves and soon he was pretty much better than you. Three steps left, three steps right, spin the girl around carefully so she doesn't vomit because she drank too much, join your right arm with the girl's left and repeat those damn steps all over again. It certainly wasn't freighter science. 

That was part of why you hated it.

"It is very simple, would you not agree?" Thrawn asked.

You almost tripped and fell on your face in surprise, but Thrawn caught you and steadied you carefully like you weighed nothing. You blinked a few times, processing that he'd just spoken.

"Yeah, I'd agree," you said slowly. "What's your point?"

"The dancing of my people is very different," Thrawn explained, his eyes burning with intensity. "Perhaps you would prefer it over the required dancing, as you are already well acquainted with it?"

"Sure," you agreed. "As long as I don't put my back out."

"You are unlikely to be injured," he stated calmly, that voice like a silken breeze. "Nevertheless, we can start with _chayt sytoricc_ , a simpler form of dance."

He clasped your right hand and pulled you closer to him. For a moment, you could barely comprehend that Thrawn was actually about to teach you to dance. This was _Thrawn_. You dismissed your own disbelief, reminding yourself that nobody probably understood him, not even his own parents. _Wait... Chiss would have parents, correct? Hmmm... I'll ask him later._

"Close your eyes."

You jerked your gaze up to him. "My _what_?"

"It is part of the dance. You must trust me," Thrawn reasoned. He brushed his left hand over your eyes to close them, and whispered in your ear: "Trust me."

You relaxed, the sensation of being held by someone with your eyes shut a strange tingling feeling. You felt Thrawn grasp your other hand, and then you began moving slowly, gripping Thrawn's hands to stop yourself from swaying. You could swear he was smirking.

He guided your steps and spun you around, bringing your back onto his chest. He leaned back, bringing you with him, and then suddenly he was leading you in circles, controlling your feet with nudges from his own. You could feel him dipping under your arms and spinning you around him. 

You lost yourself to the spirit of weightlessness, Thrawn's strong hands never leaving yours as he led you in a fluid, graceful dance. Like making music with your movements. You trusted him as he ushered you backwards, bending your back. He whispered smooth commands every few seconds, like "Fall back into me." and "Lift your right leg." into your ear, his breath tickling. Every motion was careful, calculated, and soft. 

When he released your hands, you didn't expect him to tuck your (H/C) hair behind your ears and brush it out of your face. When you opened your eyes, he had a small smile on his face of perfect indigo. There was a light purple blush on his cheeks.

His hand lingered on your face, tracing the line of your jaw. When you met his red eyes, they were filled with a delicate tenderness. "Human eyes are very strange. The art of a beautiful soul."

You giggled and poked him. "So poetic."

He smirked with thin lips and leaned in to murmur in your ear. "I can be more so if you wish it."

"If I wish it?" it was your turn to smirk. You placed a hand on his chest and stroked your fingers along his collar bone. "That dance in itself was poetic."

His eyes lit up with what looked like mischief.

"Wait," you poked him again, a retort forming in your head. "You're not actually supposed to close your eyes for that, are you?"

"No." His smirk widened.

"You sneaky blueberry," you hissed playfully, jabbing him in the ribs. He grunted.

You ducked around him, a challenge shining like a tiny flame in your (E/C) eyes.

"Ah, you dare challenge me?" he mock growled. His gaze glittered with laughter. "Did you not learn from our last sparring session?"

You dodged a quick hook from Thrawn's foot. "I'm always open to improvement."


End file.
